Dawgs.

If I've said it once, I've said it a million times. Having dogs is like having a toddler. 

Heard around the house: 

Buddy, leave your sister alone. 
Buddy, why are you eating the floor? 
Buddy, don't throw your toys at me. 
Buddy, get your nose out of my a$$. 
Buddy, stop eating my pants. 
Buddy, put your penis away. 
Buddy, stop eating your sisters head. 
Buddy, chew your food. 
Buddy, don't pee on your sister.    
Buddy, why can't you be good like your sister?

Always an adventure!!!

This just got serious...

Geez.  It's only been 10 days since my last post about challenges.  They just keep coming at us like waves.  Yesterday was our greatest challenge so far.  Walking away from the cabin.  Here's the view as I said goodbye to The Broken Badger.

So what happened?  Well, here is the account of the epic journey:

We have abandoned ship. We really weren't as well prepared as we needed to be, then a bunch of different circumstances came together into the perfect storm, and we couldn't overcome. We decided on Monday (21st) that we had to come out. It was Woody's 5 day weekend, and we had actually made a trip out to the Tri-Cities on Saturday with the GMC (and the dogs, of course). It was dicey, but still doable. Then a big storm came. With the new snow we had about 2 feet at the cabin, plus the drifting, and weren't sure what the road would look like up top. We were fairly sure that Woody could barrel out in the old ford (since it's mainly downhill), but also fairly sure that he wouldn't be back for 3 weeks.

And that would be fine, right? After all, that is what I had planned for and I've probably got 4 months worth of food up there. I could stretch it to 6 months if I worked at it. We're still waiting on the pump, so without Woody hauling water, I would have to use my emergency water and melt snow, but that's fine, too. But ya know what? I didn't have enough firewood.

Because of the burn bans and the complete forest shutdown because of the fire risk, we didn't get in a boatload of firewood like we should have. Shoot, I think the shutdown actually ran through September. So we have been piecemealing our firewood supply together as we could. We would drop a tree and get it into rounds, and up to the house and I would split it while Woody was at work. Unfortunately, once the roads started to get worse, he couldn't haul those bigger loads - just smaller ones. And once the concept of him not being able to get back in at all came up... well, that was it. Our 'redundancy' was sorely lacking. Due to living IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FOREST, I never planned on being OUT of firewood, so my propane backup was a little more than a weeks worth of emergency stock. And 3 out of 4 of our generators have gone tits up this year (including our new one!!!) so any thoughts of using a space heater for emergency were gone as well (even if I wasn't depending on Woody for hauling the gasoline in for them...).

And our quad broke. And the snowmobile has an 'issue'. It runs, but is less dependable than it should be. And Woody's number one chainsaw broke. And and and....

So anyway, we decided to come out on Tuesday. We were lucky enough that one of our friends from town (with a Jeep) had the day off and was happy to come out and break trail for us. So we loaded up the GMC with a few weeks worth of stuff, bedding, clothes and dogs, and started off once they got there. We made it about 15 feet. He hooked on and tried to pull us out, but we had already dug it in pretty good and no amount of tugging was going to help at that point. So we unloaded the truck to the jeep, made about 3 trips with our stuff up the hill, and loaded it into the old ford. We walked up the hill... who's bloody idea was that??? Then sent back the jeep one more time for some booze. (BECAUSE.)

So off we go. Even with the trail being broken - it was epic. Epic, epic, epic. We were just trying to keep up momentum so we didn't get stuck, the old ford was bouncing like a monkey on crack, we were BLASTING through drifts 3 - 4 feet high, throwing snow rooster tails over the cab of the truck, I was clutching the dogs for dear life (sleeping dogs, really???), when Woody wasn't pooping his pants he was trying to deny he was kind of having fun.... Epic.

The Jeep had to tug us out once, but over all the downhill/momentum plan worked out. Shoot, did I mention we had 2 teenagers in the bed of the truck for the ride out? Fricking country kids, tough as nails.

Crashed at our friends house for a couple days, where poor little Buddy got attacked by their heeler (not bad enough for vet, thank goodness), and there was a ham incident. Now we are holed up in a single wide in a neighboring community.

So anyway, that is our sad, sad story. By the way - this community is amazing. I don't think there is anywhere else in the world like it. It's a fricking gem.

Walking to the post office in downtown Bickleton!

Challenges!

I always maintained that I was looking forward to getting snowed in and not being able to leave the cabin for a while.  And I prepared (at least food-wise) for it.  The locals laughed. 

~~ "Oh honey - snow isn't a problem, you can drive on it until you can snowmobile on it, no problems.  It's the transition seasons that get you... fall and spring, when things are wet.  You can't drive on the mud."~~

Being a jeep girl long ago, I ignored their warnings, assuming they just couldn't drive in mud.  I WAS WRONG.

The dirt here is a monster of another caliber.  Remember how I've mentioned that we don't really have any dirt?  Just a bit of rock mixed with some dirt before it's straight up rock? Ha.  I WAS WRONG.  

Our driveway.  Rock solid.  Couldn't dig down 2 inches if I try.  Get a little moisture - okay, a bit slick on top. Get a little more moisture - well, a little rough, but doable.  Get a little more moisture - oh no, we're sinking in 2 FEET of mud!!!  Where did the mud come from if there is no dirt? Where???

We did manage to get the truck out.  I thought we might have to wait until spring when the ground firmed back up again, but we pulled her out.  Everything here is a learning curve.  Just life in the out yonder!

I'm not saying it's windy or anything...

... but this just flew by out front.

Oh, the travesty!!!

So during our little 3 day wind storm, my greenhouse blew over.  Up and rolled over. Caught wind like a sail and made way. 

I did not appreciate it and may have had one of my multiple breakdowns of the week.  Maybe. 

But, as usual, Woody to the rescue!  He carefully rolled that sucker back over and decided to install a floor, so that all of the plants and etc that I put in it will give the building added weight.  And overall, not too bad of damage to the structure!  Little baby miracle.  

I saved the few plants that had been placed in it already - the citrus - and they moved inside for a few days.  After the floor was installed, I placed many, many, many pounds of paving stones, dirt and water inside, along with the plants.  Fingers crossed that our efforts will pay off!

Upright, with new floor!

Um…..hi?

She said sheepishly.  My last post was over 2 years ago.  (That stuck in my throat a little.)  But what I’m about to tell you is probably going to stick a lot more.  Especially since this revelation has been 2+ years in coming…

And it’s uniquely difficult since in my last post I was espousing the benefits of being open and telling the world your problems.  Little did I know that the problems could get so bad I would crawl into a hole and not come out for years.  I just couldn’t bear the thought of anyone knowing what was going on.  I was ashamed.

Well, remember how our lives were in upheaval and we were moving?  We ran out of money and lost our home, but had a new option, albeit a less than optimal one…. Things didn’t quite work out that way.

Our gift horse turned out to be more of a profit driven ass (did I say ass?  I meant mule.)  The miserable situation that we had been offered came with an exorbitantly high price tag.  Would you like some skin along with the blood you are trying to squeeze from the rock??? Homeless and destitute are not words that some people understand.  But again, luckily for us, some people do.  My dear husband talked to his family.  He hadn’t wanted to do that, because he was ashamed too, but our only other option was moving into the national forest.  There was a family meeting and we were allowed to move our travel trailers onto the family plot.  And all our junk and the chickens, too.  I think we are technically gypsies now, since we have been living out of the trailers for 2 and a half years.  It has been a humbling (and pretty miserable) experience.  I try everyday to be thankful for what we have, and grateful for the blessings we do have.  Things could be worse.  So there is our dirty little secret and the reason I haven’t felt like talking for a whole 2 years.

(You may ask, “What the heck?  Don’t you people work for a living?  What’s wrong with you?”)  1) Don’t judge, Judgey McJudgey Face, lest ye be judged.  2) Yes, we do.  But since I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia several years ago, my income has steadily gone downhill because of the jobs I am able to take (I make maybe a third of what I used to, on a good year) and Woody’s business took a nosedive in 2008 from the “Great Recession” and it never recovered before being laid to rest in 2011.  And our bills just didn’t seem to understand that our income took a $50K a year hit.  We could have liquidated all our assets and been solvent.  And be living comfortably in an apartment just like the rest of the world.  But our dreams wouldn’t die.  We want to escape the rat race, and the only way to do that was to hold onto what we have, not sell it!  We work, pay our property payments and our bills, just like everyone.  Only whereas we once could afford rent in town and to buy our property, we can only afford one of those.  We chose the property.  And it is remote enough that at this point we can’t live there and still make enough money to pay the other bills off. [A town of 90 doesn’t have lots of openings in the job market.]  So yes, we work, and work hard, but as of now we are still trying to save our dreams from the chopping block. 
Wow, that’s a huge load off my chest.  Now that I’ve yelled it from the rooftops, maybe I can go ahead and move on with life.  We’ve continued homesteading as much as we can in the trailers, and still have our little flock of 14 chickens.  As soon as we save up enough for a well for the property, we might just get moved up there!  Wish us luck and stay tuned for more updates.

Upheaval and Chaos?

Yup, upheaval and chaos wins the day!  There are changes afoot.  And I don't like it.  We are moving.  Not to the Broken Badger in Bickleton.  Waaaah!


I feel the need to be honest to ya'll about this. (I have always believed that it is easier to tell the truth than to work your way out of a lie.  Unfortunately, that seems to also apply to censoring myself, revealing my emotions, and simple omissions of fact.  Yes, I'm sure I should see a doctor about this, but that's not on my list of things to do right now.)  We are not moving because we found a better location, or a better deal.  It is simply because of the economy.  The big, bad, sucky economy.  We cannot afford to stay where we are anymore.  I feel a bit better talking about this because the more I talk to my friends; the more I realize that there are a lot of people in the same situation!  I think we are conditioned to not reveal the negatives to people, so we feel very isolated and alone; but by being honest with others, we can find support and understanding!  Through these conversations I have found people that have moved all the way across the country to move in with family, people that are selling belongings (artwork, motorcycles) to just try to get along, and a friend that has a family living in a travel trailer in front of her house.  I seriously endorse talking about things that make you uncomfortable (with people you trust); you might be surprised to find that you are not alone.


So anyway.  We are leaving our little 2 acres on the outskirts of town.  And having to pack up 3 ½ years of accumulation. (How do two people get this much STUFF?)  Two weeks of packing and garage sales have left me tired of things.  I just want a loin cloth, a knife and a pot to cook in and I'll be fine.  My new neighbors may not approve though!  Yes, we have found a new place, which was a huge concern for us.  In the Portland Metro area, there are not many places that will take a dog, a cat & 19 chickens, have space for our trucks, trailer & flatbed, and that are basically free.  Nope, I checked Craigslist under "Free" and there really aren't any places to live.  We lucked into a friend that has a house not too far from where we are now.  The house has been empty for a couple years and is a pretty bad state of disrepair, so my husband's labor and a smidge of cash will cover the rent.  I have to say we are lucky because of the little things – we get to keep our chickens and there is a dry place to park the Jeep.  We don't get exclusive use of the property (the barn and outbuildings are completely full, it is used as parking for the construction business rigs and the kids use the property to ride their dirt bikes), but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?!?  I really just thank God for giving us a little break.  With some luck and hard work the next move we make may just be up to the Broken Badger!


So cross your fingers for us and I'll keep you posted.  Feel free to share your chaos stories – I won't judge you!

The D-List

I am full of D-words.  Disgusted, depressed, dismayed, devastated, displeased, dejected, demolished, dispirited, defeated and downright despondent. I was planning on talking about some of the other wildlife challenges we've been having.  Our egg count is really low, and it's more than just lazy chickens… We've been finding eggs with holes.  At first we thought the chickens were stepping on them or possibly egg-eating, but they have TONS of calcium and the shells are fine.  Then we realized it was Blue Jays.  They figured out that they could sneak in the coop and mess with the eggs, solely to drive me crazy, I'm sure.  Then, a couple days after that discovery, I was mowing the grass with the perfect view of a crow carrying an egg off in its beak!!!  ACK! That is what I was going to talk about.  But I'm not.  We had ANOTHER coyote strike.  We've lost 7 chickens in 16 days.  And they got our baby, our Silky Sue.  So now I'm full of D-words.  I guess these are the days that really make a farmer.  I really don't even want to go on.  I'm tired of having my chickens be a smorgasbord for this opportunistic skudge (that is probably not a word, just how I feel about them right now.)  We can't afford to buy a live trap, and our state wildlife folks aren't willing to help, even though the 'yotes are considered a nuisance since they are taking livestock – and they are striking in the middle of the day!   Our only option is to hang out for hours on end, hoping they don't smell us, hoping they come back, then shoot them.  But seriously, who has that kind of time?  So the chickens are in lock up again, also displeased, wanting greens and bugs.  Any thoughts on what we can do to empower ourselves against these wildlife violators?

And then there was one…

Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration.  We have more than one chicken left.  But I find it ironic that on the day we go to pick up 5 new chickens, we have a coyote strike that takes out four chickens – in the middle of the afternoon!  So we have a net gain of one chicken.  And I'm not sure what it's like in your neck of the woods, but full-grown laying hens are expensive here!  So we spent $100 bucks for one more lousy chicken. The really traumatic part is that the coyotes got our rooster.  Cuppa-Soup was the best rooster ever!  (Obviously, he was originally meant for the soup pot, but the other roosters that I thought were in the running for the flock sire position turned out to be jerks, so Cuppa's gentile attitude saved him from the pot.)  Cuppa was a home grown chicken, brooded by our nasty little Cochin (who is a wonderful mommy) and was the result of a Road Island Red Banty and an Amerucana.  He had the best colors and was a very noble looking rooster.  He always watched carefully and proudly over his harem.  Cuppa would make the cutest noises to call all his ladies over when he found food, and would always make sure all the girls had eaten before he had his share.  He NEVER challenged us!  He really was the bestest and I don't think we can ever replace him.  I never thought I would be in mourning over a rooster, but here I am. Young Cuppa Desperate to carry on Cuppa's bloodline, we pulled a handful of eggs from that day (7 of them).  Also ironically, all of the chickens that had been broody just 'broke' during this week. That cochin seriously wouldn't get out of the boxes for months!  But now?  Can't get one to stay on the nest for love or money.  Should we get an incubator?  Try to buy a broody chicken and hope she stays setting for the next 21 days?  Wait – one of our egg customers has a couple hens that are usually pretty broody, let's try calling… Such a good watchman We are so lucky!  Our dear friend has a broody hen, so we ran the eggs over to get them cooking under the hen.  Hopefully in 21 days we will have 7 little Cuppa offspring running around!  Farming is not easy.  There's as much drama on the farm as there is on a daytime talk show! Cross your fingers for us and wish for high fertility!!! RIP Cuppa-Soup